A Chase Story
by TDWidow
Summary: It's been four years since Cordelia gave up her visions and abandoned Angel Investigations. Bad news reunites her with her favorite childhood playmate, her cousin Robert, where parts of her past pose a deadly threat. Crossover with House, MD. Epilogue up!
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** New fic up! The first chapter is always so exciting. I'm posting this now as kind-of an interim Christmas present for Lauren, since her real one isn't done yet. So Lauren, this is for you! I hope everyone enjoys!

**DISCLAIMER** I don't own anyone in this story. This exchange in the beginning of this chapter is taken from the _Angel_ episode "There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb" and was written by whoever wrote that episode. I'm just borrowing it.

**Prologue – 2001**

The five of them left Lorne to clean up Caritas and rode back to the Hyperion. Fred was excited to be back. "Are you sure about that?" she asked as they pushed open the wrought iron gate to the garden.

"Trust me," Cordelia replied. "Tacos everywhere. And soap!" Fred looked thrilled.

"Yo, that portal jumping is a fun ride," Gunn commented. "We should sell it to a theme park. We could get paid!"

They laughed. "Okay. Can I say it?" Angel asked excitedly as they neared the doors. "I want to say it!"

"Say what?" Wesley asked.

Angel pushed the door open. "There's no place like…" His voice trailed off and he asked hesitantly, "Willow?"

The red-headed witch stood from the chair she had been hunched over in. There was a deadness in her eyes that none of them had ever seen before. "What's…?" Cordelia asked, not sure that she wanted to know the answer.

Angel and Willow stared at each other. Finally, Angel said quietly, "It's Buffy."

They stood silently for a moment, Angel and Willow still holding the other's gaze while Wesley and Gunn looked at the floor and Fred fell into her usual silence. Cordelia was unable to process a single thought as the sudden knowledge that Buffy must be dead fell heavily upon her.

Something spurred them to subdued life again and they made it a few steps passed the doorway. Wesley led Fred up to a room and returned to find Willow sitting once again on the chair, now with tears running down her face. Gunn had retreated to the office, feeling that he didn't belong in the discussion about the Slayer that he had never known. Cordelia brought Willow a cup of tea and sat beside her, offering what little comfort she could.

Angel listened in stoic silence as Willow recounted the horrifying tale of their battle with Glory, sparing no details. She talked of the sudden appearance of the Key in the form of a little sister called Dawn and the death of Buffy's mother. She told them, with an edge in her voice, of how her lover Tara had fallen victim to Glory's thirst for sanity. Finally, tearfully, she spoke of the last battle and Buffy's great sacrifice for her sister.

It didn't seem real. Cordelia couldn't bring herself to believe that Buffy Summers was really dead. No one could. There were no questions for Willow to answer after she'd finished the story; Cordelia, Angel, and Wesley were too much in shock to think. Afterward, Willow turned down Angel's offer of a room for the night, claiming that she was needed by everyone back in Sunnydale, and left.

They were by themselves, devastated by the loss of the girl who had sacrificed so much for them. "I can't believe I left her," Angel muttered.

Cordelia and Wesley, their faces wet with tears, both rushed to his side. "Angel, no," Cordelia said. "You know this isn't your fault."

"We all left her," Wesley said softly.

Angel shook his head. "I should have been there for her. I should have been fighting at her side."

"You can't do this to yourself," Cordelia pleaded. "There was nothing you could have done."

Angel looked at her. His eyes looked more dead and empty than she had ever seen them before. "You don't know that."

There was no reaching him. Cordelia looked at Wesley helplessly, but the ex-Watcher just shook his head. They watched as the vampire fled up the stairs. Cordelia tried to stifle a sob as she heard the slamming of a door waft down from the guest floors above them. Wesley put an arm around her shoulder and held her close.

…

No one saw Angel for a week. Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn tried to handle the business that came in, although no world-threatening events loomed on the horizon. They filled Lorne in on what had happened and the green-skinned demon promised to keep a look out for anything that might require Angel's attention. Fred wandered listlessly around the hotel, only coming out of her room for meals or when Cordelia coaxed her out with promises of tacos. Without Angel, the girl seemed just as lost in Los Angeles as she had in Pylea.

Finally, the vampire reappeared in the lobby just as the sun set. Cordelia was at what had once been the reception desk, poring over an ancient book of Wesley's. Wesley was in his office and Gunn was cleaning the weapons. They were all startled by the sound of Angel's footsteps.

Cordelia rushed from behind the desk. "Hey! You're back!" She paused. "I mean, you're, well, downstairs. With us. And not, you know, hiding in your room."

He turned his dark eyes to her and she cringed at the empty look. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Angel, are you alright?" Wesley asked, a concerned edge in his voice.

Up above, Fred came silently to the balcony to watch the scene with hesitant interest. Angel looked at each of the three of them in turn. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Sorry for what?" Cordelia asked.

If he had had any breath, Angel would have sighed. "I'm leaving."

He was met with silence. "Leaving?" Cordelia whispered. "Leaving where?"

"There's a place."

Anger boiled over and the words just came tumbling unchecked from Cordelia's mouth. "There's a place? You're leaving us all alone to fight the good fight because you found a place? No. There is no way in Hell that I'm letting you, that _we're_ letting you walk out on us because you're having a bad day!"

Wesley came up softly behind Cordelia and put a hand on her arm. "Cordelia."

She turned on Wesley. "No! He's left us once before; I am not letting him leave us again!"

Wesley looked at the misery written clearly on Angel's face. "He needs to find peace."

Angel nodded. "Yeah."

"Peace?" Cordelia cried. Then her expression crumpled and tears sprang to her eyes. "Why can't you find peace here with us?"

"Or you could go to Vegas."

All eyes turned to Gunn. He shrugged. "I'm just saying."

Angel headed for the door. "I'm sorry, Cordy," he said.

"Yeah!" she shouted after him as he left. "You're sorry! Well not as sorry as you're gonna be! How many times do you think I'm going to let you leave?"

Then he was gone. Wordlessly, Wesley took Cordelia in his arms and let her cry on his shoulder.

…

After Angel left, the team fell into a depressed limbo. Fred withdrew almost permanently into her room at the Hyperion. Gunn spent more time on the streets, lending a hand to his old gang. Wesley buried himself in researching nearly any demon he could think of. And Cordelia was left alone.

The bitter misery that the team had fallen into after Buffy's death shook Cordelia to the core. She thought back to the life she had once known, before Doyle's visions, before Angel Investigations, before the horror that was graduation, before that tragic relationship with Xander, and before the Slayer ever entered her life. There was happiness there, far back in the recesses of her memory. It was almost too long ago to remember.

She missed being happy. Maybe it was time to find that happiness again.

The next day, Cordelia found herself alone in the hotel with only Fred locked in her room. She approached Angel's door and found it unlocked. With a sigh, she pushed it open and headed for his personal files.

She wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for until she found it. All it was was an address, written in Doyle's hand. More tears came to her as she thought of the other one who had made her life in Los Angeles less miserable that first year. Now both Doyle and Angel were gone.

She was careful to leave Angel's room exactly as she found it, then eased the door closed behind her. An ear to Fred's door told her that the girl was busy scribbling away on her walls as always. Cordelia slipped out the front door.

The address turned out to be the post office. She laughed ruefully. It made sense. Carefully, she picked her way down an ancient set of stairs that she had a creepy suspicion only she could see.

There it was before her. A stone archway set behind a sacrificial alter. She burned the appropriate herbs and said, "I beseech access to the knowing ones," all the while hoping that new Oracles had been called since the others' deaths at Vocah's hand nearly a year before.

The doorway opened and her hope was bolstered. She stepped through the blinding white entrance and found herself in a marble and alabaster temple. Two gold and blue beings in black togas stood before her. "Who are you, lower being?" the male asked.

Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh good. I'm so glad that someone's here. I'm Cordelia. I'm a messenger from the Powers to Angel."

The female cocked her head. "A messenger to a champion," she said. "What have you brought us?"

Cordelia dug into her pocket and withdrew a golden scarab that she had taken from Wesley. The female Oracle held out her hand and the scarab flew into it as if called. "Ancient Egyptian." She smiled. "Just like us. Your gift is accepted. What do you ask of us?"

Tears gathered in Cordelia's eyes. "I ask you to take my visions away," she said, her voice breaking.

The Oracles looked at her, confused. "Why?" the male one asked.

"Because I can't do this anymore. I can't go through this pain."

The female glared at her. "This is a very selfish thing you are asking of us. If you abandon your champion, how will he continue to serve the Powers?" she asked.

Cordelia took a deep breath. "I'm asking that you transfer my gift to another. A girl that Angel rescued and brought back to this dimension. She needs some purpose in her life and I need a new beginning. It will be better for both of us," she said. "Please. I'm begging you. Please let my visions be transferred to her as they were once to me."

The Oracles were silent for a moment. Finally, the male one nodded. "We see that your request is made in selfishness, but balanced with good intentions. For this reason, we will grant your request. But now that once your visions are gone, they can never be returned to you. If you make this choice, it is forever."

Cordelia nodded firmly. "I understand."

"Very well." The Oracles looked at each other and then back to Cordelia. "It is done." With a wave of their golden hands, Cordelia was bathed in a burning flash of white light and found herself back in the grotto under the post office.

She wasted no time returning to the Hyperion and gathering her things. As usual, only Fred was at the hotel, but Cordelia did not stop to say goodbye. She simply packed what she needed from the hotel and her apartment, then sold her car and took a taxi to LAX to board the next flight to New York City.

Two weeks later, she found herself in the empty living room of her new apartment. She had nothing but a handful of suitcases. Her visions were gone. Her friends were gone. Her old life was over.

Her words to the Groosalug echoed in her mind. "I've got a job to do back home." As she looked around her bare apartment and thought of all the things and memories and people that she had left behind in Los Angeles, of the mission that she had so willingly abandoned, Cordelia sat down in the middle of her living room floor and sobbed.

Phantom Dennis picked up a blanket and draped it around her shoulders. She hugged it to her as she cried.


	2. Chapter One

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** This is still an unofficial Christmas present for Lauren because, even though it's February, hers still isn't done. I swear I'm working on it though!

Let's pretend Cordelia's father made most of his money back after the IRS took everything in BtVS season three.

This story takes place right after the _House MD_ episode "The Mistake."

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone. For Cordelia's father, I made up his name, but his character is still technically part of the Buffyverse.

**Chapter One – 2005**

The production offices of the newest cable daytime drama were housed on the 43rd floor of a typical New York high-rise on the Upper West Side. In the first office on the right just off the elevator, a young receptionist named Jenny sat filing her nails at her desk.

It was just past 3:00 when the phone rang. "Casting, Miss Chase's office," answered Jenny. "Mmhmm, sure. Hold on." Pushing the red hold button, Jenny put the phone to her shoulder and called, "Cor! Some guy's on the phone for you! Weird, kinda Australian accent?"

Cordelia Chase frowned in confusion. "Thanks Jenny, I've got it!" She picked up the phone receiver, gold bracelets jingling. "Hi Daddy."

"Hello sweetheart. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. Where are you? I haven't talked to you in nearly six months."

"Oh, I'm at the Switzerland house."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Cordelia waited impatiently. "Okay…? Daddy, what's going on? You don't usually call unless something's up."

Callum Chase sounded indignant. "Can't a father just call his daughter to say hi?"

"You usually don't."

Again, there was silence. Then, "Did you know that your cousin is in New Jersey?"

Confused, Cordelia said, "No. How long has he been there?"

"A couple years. Princeton."

"Oh. That's nice." She waited. "Did you want me to call him or something?"  
"Actually, you might want to go visit him."

"Daddy, just tell me what's going on!" Cordelia said, frustratedly.

Callum sighed. "Cordy, I'm sorry sweetheart but your Uncle Rowan passed away."

Cordelia was silent. "The lung cancer finally caught up to him," her father continued awkwardly.

"Uh…" Cordelia struggled to find her voice. "Uh, when?"

"Six months ago."

"Six months ago?" she repeated shrilly. "And why exactly did you wait until now to tell me?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. It was a nightmare arranging the funeral and everything."

"And what if I had wanted to go to the funeral?" Cordelia asked. "Did that thought ever cross your mind?"

"Look, Cordy, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just thought you being so close to New Jersey that you might want to go spend some time with your cousin. He's been taking his father's death pretty hard."

Cordelia was silent for a minute, still angry and upset over the things her father had told her. Finally, she said, "I'll think about it."

"Thank you, sweetheart. How is work?"

"Work's fine. Actually, I've really got to get back to work."

"Okay." Callum's voice sounded mildly disappointed, but Cordelia didn't really care. She'd talk with him later when she wasn't mad. "I love you, Cordy."

"Love you too, Daddy."

Cordelia hung up the phone and clenched her hands in frustration. With an angry sigh, she pushed herself away from her desk and stalked out to where Jenny sat. "Jenny, if you found out that your sister died, would you wait six months to tell your kid?"

Jenny blinked. "Cordelia, I don't have kids."

She rolled her eyes. "Hypothetically, Jenny. Hypothetically."

"Uh…no?"

"Exactly!"

Jenny jumped at the explosiveness of Cordelia's reply. "Is everyone okay?" she ventured.

Cordelia sighed. "Yes. It's fine. Don't disturb me for a while, Jenny. There's some stuff I have to think about."

Jenny nodded. "Okay."

Cordelia returned to her office and slammed the door behind her. She sat at her desk and stewed for a good half an hour before her mind finally wandered to her cousin.

_Robbie must be so upset_, she thought. She remembered her blonde-haired handsome cousin who used to play with her when the two were little. He was six years older than she was, but they were both only children and sought companionship in each other. Robbie's parents got divorced when Cordelia was nine and after that, she and her parents stopped visiting them in Australia. She hadn't seen him in easily ten years.

But how could she take time off from the office like that? Her office was one of the busiest in all of production. It would only be for a few days, but that much time could be disastrous without her there.

Suddenly a splitting headache blinded her and she grabbed her head with both hands. It passed nearly as soon as it came on, but Cordelia was left with the shaky, panicky feeling that had always followed those. She knew that back in Los Angeles, Fred had been getting her visions for four years, but she didn't know why she continued to get these phantom vision headaches that came with no visions. And she had no way to contact the Powers to find out.

Some were worse than others. They had only come four or five times a year, but they always reminded Cordelia of the life that she had abandoned. Now she was faced with another reminder of a life that she had once had and had left behind. If she went to New Jersey, she would have to face the memories of her once-idyllic family life. She wasn't sure that she could handle that.

…

A striking brunette figure walked down the boarding ramp in the terminal at Newark International Airport. Cordelia smiled sadly as she watched family members and friends joyfully greeting each other at the gate, hugging and kissing and crying their hellos. She knew that there would be no one there to greet her. She hadn't told Robbie that she was coming.

She rented a car and started south toward the college town of Princeton. There was a hospital there and that was where she would find her cousin. When she pulled into the parking lot, it was hard to get out of the car. She was afraid of what she would find. She was afraid of seeing her cousin again. Most of all, she was afraid of regretting the last four years of her life.

Now Robbie needed her. The old her wouldn't have cared. But she had declared that there was a new her a long time ago. She had to force the old her away. She took a deep breath and got out of the car.

There was no one at the reception desk when she entered the hospital. She sighed in frustration and tapped her foot. It echoed loud and satisfying through the lobby. A woman with long dark curly hair in a white lab coat approached her. "Can I help you?"

Cordelia read the tag on her lab coat. "Dr. Cuddy? I'm looking for Dr. Robert Chase."


	3. Chapter Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** And I continue to say merry Christmas to Lauren…I hope she and everyone else enjoys this chapter!

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone.

**Chapter Two**

Dr. Lisa Cuddy looked at the young woman in the lobby, wondering what she wanted with House's team. She didn't look sick. "Dr. Chase?" she repeated.

The woman nodded impatiently. "Yes. Dr. Robert Chase. He does work here, doesn't he?"

"Yes," Cuddy replied. "He's part of our diagnostic team."

"Great. Where's that?"

"Uh, I'll take you there."

The woman smiled. "Perfect." She extended a hand. "I'm Cordelia. I'm Dr. Chase's cousin."

Cuddy shook Cordelia's hand. "Cousin?" she repeated. "Really? You don't sound Australian."

Cordelia laughed. "Our fathers were brothers. Daddy moved to California before I was born. The rest of his family stayed in Australia."

"I see." Cuddy led Cordelia to the elevator. "You know, Chase – uh, Dr. Chase has never really talked about his family."

A frosty look settled over Cordelia's face and Cuddy realized that she had hit a sore spot. "There isn't much to talk about."

The ride to the floor on which House's office was located was an awkward one. Once the elevator doors opened, Cuddy pointed down the hallway. "Dr. House's office is just down there on the right. Dr. Chase is part of his team."

"Thanks." Cordelia headed down the hallway and immediately spotted her cousin through the large windows. He was at a long conference table by himself, bent over an open file. Her heart broke when she got close enough to see the look on his face. It was one that she recognized from when they were little. He was upset.

She paused at the door for a moment, then knocked on the doorframe. Her cousin looked up and a surprised grin lit up his face. "Cordy!"

Chase jumped up from the table and hugged his cousin. "Hi Robbie," she said with a smile. "Been a long time, huh?"

"Too long!" Chase ushered her over to the table and sat her down. "What are you doing all the way here in New Jersey? I thought you were living in California."

Cordelia shrugged. "I, uh, I left California. I've actually been living in New York City for the past four years."

"And you never came to see me?" Chase shook his head in mock pain. "That hurts."

Cordelia grinned. "I didn't know you were here. When did you come to the States anyway?"

"Few years ago. When I got the opportunity to work with House, I couldn't turn it down."

Cordelia frowned. "House?"

"Dr. House. He's my boss." Chase paused. "Was my boss. He's sort of on probation right now."

There was a look that passed over Chase's face. Cordelia frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Chase said quickly. "So how long are you in town?"

"Just a few days." Cordelia looked sympathetic and put her hand over his. "Daddy told me about Uncle Rowan. I'm so sorry, Robbie."

Chase squeezed her hand. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry I couldn't go to the funeral. Daddy didn't even tell me until this past week."

Chase laughed humorlessly. "Sounds like Uncle Callum. I couldn't go either, if it makes you feel any better. It was back home. I couldn't get away."

Cordelia frowned. "That sucks."

Laughing for real, Chase smiled. "I know. But I haven't seen you in years – I don't want to talk about these depressing things. How have you been? Why did you come east? I thought you loved California."

"I did," Cordelia said slowly. "But there was some bad stuff that happened there. Some of my close friends, uh, they passed away. There was too much pain for me there."

"Cordy, I'm so sorry."

She shrugged. "It's okay. It was many years ago."

"Well, how's New York? Any better?"

She nodded. "I have a really good job there. I'm a casting director for a soap opera."

Chase laughed. "That sounds perfect for you!"

"Don't make fun of me!" Cordelia protested. "I like it! And I'm good at it."

"Well that's good," Chase said with a smirk. "Any boyfriends I should know about?"

Cordelia smirked back. "Yeah right. Like I'd tell you after what you did to that boy in Melbourne!"

Chase grinned. "He wasn't good enough for you. It's my job to protect you, what with no brothers to keep an eye on you."

Cordelia patted his hand. "Well thanks, but I've got nothing for you. There hasn't been anyone actually, not for years. Not since Groo."

Frowning, Chase repeated, "Groo? What kind of name is that?"

"Uh, nickname," Cordelia replied quickly. "What about you?"

Chase fidgeted. "Uh, nothing…serious."

Cocking an eyebrow, Cordelia asked, "And just what does that mean?"

Chase hesitated. "That means that there's nothing serious."

"Hmph." Cordelia crossed her arms across her chest. "Fine. Don't tell me."

"There's nothing to tell!" Chase insisted.

"Uh-huh." Cordelia raised a single eyebrow – a talent that she knew Chase had always envied. "You can't hide anything from me, Robbie. Didn't you learn that a long time ago?"

Chase laughed. "I'll tell you some other time."

Suddenly, the door banged open and two other doctors followed a man leaning heavily on a cane into the room. The man with the cane looked at Chase and said, "Chase, haven't you learned anything? You don't entertain these girls during business hours!"

Cordelia bristled. Chase saw the outburst that was coming and quickly said, "House, this is Cordelia Chase. She's my cousin."

House frowned. "Cousin?"

Sending him her best icy stare, Cordelia said, "That's right. Who are you?"

"I'm Dr. House. Your cousin's boss."

One of the doctors behind him raised a hand. "Actually, that would be me, remember? Cuddy put me in charge."

House rolled his eyes. "How could I possibly forget?"

The other two pushed past him and approached Cordelia. The woman held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Allison Cameron. I work with your cousin."

Cordelia shook Cameron's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Eric Foreman," the other said. They shook hands as well. "Chase never mentioned he had such a beautiful cousin," Foreman added.

Cordelia laughed. "I'm willing to bet that he never mentioned that he had a cousin at all." A glance at the sheepish look on Chase's face confirmed her comment. Foreman and Cameron laughed.

"Not to break up the family reunion," House said, "but is there a reason that you're here?"

She felt her patented Sunnydale attitude bubbling up inside of her. "You and I aren't going to get along, are we?" she asked him. "I'm here to visit my cousin. Anything wrong with that?"

House shrugged. "Just don't get in the way of him doing his job."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good." House spun his cane around in his hand. "Then you and I will get along great."

Cordelia was about to give him a biting retort when blinding pain suddenly shot through her head. She cried out in pain, clutching at her temples, and fell to the ground.

As usual, there were no images, but the pain was nearly as bad as it had been back in Los Angeles. The edges of her vision turned black as the phantom vision ripped through her. She curled into the fetal position, trying to shy away from the pain, but she could not escape it. Finally, it slowly began to recede.

She opened her eyes and blinked, causing the spots in her eyes to disappear. Her cousin and the three other doctors were clustered around her. "Cordy, are you okay?" Chase asked. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. Gratefully, she accepted Chase's hand and climbed off the floor. "Stupid Powers," she grumbled under her breath.

"What?" asked Foreman.

"Nothing," she replied quickly.

"You still look shaky," Cameron said worriedly.

Cordelia waved her off. "I'm always shaky after those."

Chase stared at her. "What, you've had episodes like that more than once?"

"Not as often as I used to," Cordelia admitted bregrudingly.

"And how often is that?" Dr. Foreman pressed.

"It's really no big deal!" she protested. "A few pain killers and the pounding goes away just like that!" Suddenly she smiled sadly. "Doyle used to drink Scotch to make it go away."

"Who's Doyle?" Chase asked sternly.

"An old friend," Cordelia snapped back. She realized how worried the doctors were and turned on her dazzling smile. "Look, it's nothing to worry about. See? I'm fine now!"

Foreman looked at House and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not so sure. I've never seen an episode like that before."

"You expect to see episodes like that a lot?" Cordelia asked.

Chase glanced at Foreman, then said, "Cordy, he's a neurologist."

"Oh."

They were all quiet for a minute. Finally, House said, "Cameron, process her."

"What?" Cordelia said. "What do you mean 'process' me?"

"I think we should admit you for a few days, just for observation," Foreman said gently. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. It's just a precaution."

Cordelia sighed in frustration. "You can't be serious! One little vi-episode and you want to commit me to the hospital?"

Chase put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Cordy. I'm sure you're fine. And we're all very good doctors. House is one of the best there is."

"Aww, Chase, I didn't know you felt that way!" House said, his hand over his heart and a sickly sweet smile on his face.

Chase rolled his eyes. "I'm sure we'll figure out what's causing this."

_But I know what's causing it,_ Cordelia thought. _I just can't explain that to you_. Instead, she glared at Chase and muttered, "Fine."

"I'll walk with you to Admitting," he said and helped her up from her chair. As they left the conference room, he sent a worried glance back at House, who simply shrugged and shook his head.


	4. Chapter Three

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Lauren's lucky – she gets a present that stretches into March. That would be because I still haven't finished her _real_ present, but she's being wonderfully patient! Enjoy, everyone!

The one actual note I want to put in is in response to one of my reviews about Phantom Dennis – at least in this story, I'm thinking of him as being more attached to Cordelia as the one who freed him from his prison behind the wall as opposed to being attached to the apartment. It can be interpreted either way, but in this story at least, I liked the idea of that one part of her old life being with her.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone.

**Chapter Three**

House picked up the whiteboard marker and wrote Chase's cousin's name on the board. "Differential diagnosis," he said.

Chase frowned. "For Cordy?"

House turned around. "No. For Santa Claus."

"So far her only symptom was that episode in here earlier," Cameron pointed out. "We don't have anything else to go on."

House wrote "EPISODE" in block letters on the whiteboard, then turned and stared at his team. After a moment, he asked, "Well? Is that all we know? Episode? Or do we know what the episode consisted of? Come on, people!"

"Well, it looked like severe neurological pain," Cameron said. "And she collapsed."

House wrote "head pain," "collapsing," and "seizure" on the board. "Okay, what else?"

"Wait," Chase said. "Cordy didn't have a seizure."

"Are you sure?" House asked.

"Well, no. But it didn't look like any seizure I've ever seen."

House rolled his eyes. "Well if Chase has never seen it, then it obviously must not exist."

Foreman sighed. "Well, okay, it could be a seizure. But caused by what?"

"Aren't you supposed to be the boss?" House asked. "I seem to remember us being doctors or something. Maybe we should try to figure out what's causing her seizures!"

"Episodes," Chase said.

"Episodes, seizures, _whatever_!" House said. "Cameron, get a medical history. See if there's anything weird in her life."

Cameron looked uncomfortable and glanced at Foreman. House watched them, then put his hand up to his mouth. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I forgot. I don't rule this kingdom anymore. What should we do, oh mighty King?"

Foreman crossed his arms and sighed. "Cameron, medical history."

House put his palms together and bowed. "Thank you, oh wise one."

Cameron got up to leave the office, Chase behind her. House put his end of his cane up against the wall, barring Chase's path to the door. "Uh-uh. You stay here."

"She's my cousin!" Chase protested.

"And that's my point. Cordelia's not going to tell Cameron about her naughty nights in New York with her favorite childhood playmate in the room."

Chase glared at House, but sat back down. Cameron stood and waited. House gave her a look. "What are you waiting for? Go!"

Chase sat glowering at House as Cameron left. "I'm Cordelia's admitting physician. I should be a part of this case!"

"You can be," House said. "The second she needs someone kind and understanding, I'll call you. Cameron gets this one off."

Chase threw House an angry look, then stalked out of the room. "Foreman, follow him," House said. "Make sure he doesn't go anywhere near that room."

Foreman glared, but did not argue as he went after Chase. House was left by himself, staring at the white board and saying nothing.

…

Cordelia sat against the stiff and scratchy hospital pillows and groaned. She couldn't believe that she was stuck there until her cousin and his colleagues gave her a clean bill of health. If she had another vision headache while she was under their supervision, she was sure that she'd never get out of there.

She hated hospitals. Ever since Buffy fought that Freddy Kruger wannabe when she had the flu back in high school, Cordelia had avoided hospitals. When she was forced to be there, she found herself seeing things lurking in dark corners and in shadowy rooms. And although she did not remember being in the ICU when she was under Vocah's spell, she knew what Angel and Wesley had told her. Every once and a while, she had nightmares about it.

With sudden tears in her eyes, she leaned her head back against the headboard. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to cry. "Dammit!" she cried, pounding her fist on the bed. Tears started falling as she thought about Buffy and Angel and Wesley and the life that she left behind.

She groped for the box of tissues on the bedside table, but it was just out of her reach. When she went to shift her position, the box suddenly slid across the table into her reach. Cordelia's eyes lit up. "Dennis?" she whispered.

Phantom Dennis replied by floating a glass of water to her side and tucking the blanket around her side. More tears came to her eyes. "I'm so glad you're here," she said. "Thank you so much!"

There was something almost like an imperceptible caress against her cheek. She smiled and wiped her eyes and nose on a tissue. It was not a moment too soon. She looked up as Dr. Cameron knocked on the doorframe and smiled, hoping her eyes were not puffy or red. "Hi. Come in."

Cameron smiled warmly. "How are you doing?" she asked.

Cordelia shifted into a better sitting position. "This isn't the first time I've been in the hospital. I'm fine."

Cameron frowned. "It isn't? When were you in the hospital before?"

_Oops_. "Oh, it was years and years ago. I actually don't even remember it," Cordelia said with a false laugh.

Cameron's brow was still knitted with worry. "Alright, well, I have a couple of questions for you and then I just need to draw blood for a couple of tests."

Cordelia nodded. "Fire away."

"Have you ever been pregnant?"

Cordelia froze. _Yes, but it was only for a day and a half and it was with demon spawn. Yeah, that will go over well._ "No."

"No miscarriages? No abortions?"

"No. Why is this important?"

"We're trying to determine the cause of your collapse. It could be a hormonal response to something. Pregnancy's just one possibility."

Cordelia had to stifle the roll of her eyes. She knew what had caused her episode; she just didn't know why it happened. "Well I'm not pregnant."

"Okay."

Cordelia found it interesting that Dr. Cameron never looked at her. She kept her eyes focused intently on Cordelia's medical chart, making notes. "Any prescription medication?" Cameron asked.

"Nope."

"Family history of cancer or seizure disorders?"

Cordelia cocked an eyebrow. "Why don't you just ask my cousin? He probably knows better than I do."

Cameron's face turned a light red. Cordelia shelved the observation for confronting Robbie later. "Uh," Cameron stammered. "Can you tell me what you were in the hospital for before?"

_Demon-induced visions?_ "Just a mild case of anemia," Cordelia lied smoothly.

"Anemia? Caused by what?"

"Work was really stressful." Cordelia inwardly laughed. That part at least was true. "I didn't have the greatest eating or sleeping habits and I just burned out."

Cameron looked at her suspiciously. "Eating disorder?"

"No!" Cordelia snapped. "What, you think I'm just some LA anorexic bimbo?"

Cameron did not answer the question. "Is that where you were in the hospital?" she asked. "LA?"

Reluctantly, Cordelia nodded. "St. Matthews."

Cameron stood up. "All right. I'll just bring this information back to House and hopefully you'll be out of here in no time!" She smiled and put her hand over Cordelia's. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll figure out what's wrong with you."

Cordelia smiled sarcastically and said, "Great."

Cameron left her alone and she leaned her head back again, this time in frustration. "Phantom Dennis," she said, "get me out of here!"

…

Cameron dropped the file on the table in the conference room. House, Foreman, and Chase were all waiting for her. "She was in the hospital once before," she said. "In LA, for anemia."

"Or so she says," House said.

"Cordy wouldn't lie about something like that," Chase said.

"Really?" House raised his eyebrows. "Because – "

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Chase said. "Everybody lies."

"You said it, not me." House turned to Foreman. "If you agree, oh great one, maybe you could call that other hospital and have Miss Chase's medical records sent to us."

Foreman shared a look with Cameron, but went to the phone anyway. He dialed the operator. "Yeah, this is Dr. Foreman. Could you connect me to St. Matthew's in LA, Records? Yeah, I'll hold."

When the line transferred, he listened to the phone ring twice before someone picked up. "Medical Records, this is Suzy."

"Hello, this is Dr. Eric Foreman, I'm calling from Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I have a patient here by the name of Cordelia Chase and I was wondering if you could fax over her records?"

"Of course Dr. Foreman, if you'll just give me one minute."

Foreman waited as the woman muttered to herself on the other end of the line. "Oh, here we are. Cordelia Chase, admitted May of 2000…"

He listened, his heart growing heavier and heavier as he watched the fax roll in on the desk next to him. House, Chase, and Cameron watched him expectantly as he hung up the phone. Reluctantly, he turned to them and handed the fax over to House. "We've got a problem."

…

House angrily burst into Cordelia's hospital room, Foreman and Cameron apologetically in his wake. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She glared at him, staring him down. "And you would be talking about…?" she asked.

Chase ran in behind him. "I'm sorry Cordy, I couldn't stop him!"

House threw the faxed records down on Cordelia's bed. "Anemia my ass. Admitted five years ago to the neuropsychiatric ward at St. Matthews in Los Angeles for an uncontrollable psychotic episode! Why the hell would you keep something like this a secret?"

Chase tried to break in. "House, let – "

Vehemently, House turned on Chase. "Not a word out of you. We don't want another patient to die."

"Hey!" shouted Cordelia. "Say what you want about me, but if you say anything like that to my cousin again, I will kick your sorry, crippled ass from here _back_ to St. Matthews!"

House narrowed his eyes at her. "Why were you in the neuropsychiatric ward?"

She snorted. "You read my file, you tell me!" Chase met her eyes, pleading with her just to answer the question. Cordelia sighed. "It was an…episode. No explanation. Lots of screaming. They pumped me full of drugs and then it just went away. Anything else?"

"Just like that?" House pressed.

_No, Angel broke the spell with the Scrolls of Aberjian._ "Yeah. Just like that."

House glared at her, speaking slowly as though she were a child. "And did this episode feel like that episode?"

Cordelia laughed. "No Vocah. No way."

The doctors frowned. "Vocah?" Cameron asked. "What's that?"

"Probably the name of her favorite shoot-up needle," House muttered.

Furiously, Chase turned on House. "Get out!" he ordered.

"Uh-uh," House said. "Last I checked, Foreman was the one that Cuddy made my boss. Not you."

Chase grabbed House by the shoulder and stared at him hard. "Cordelia is a patient in this hospital and as a doctor, I am ordering you to get the hell out of her room!"

A slow smile spread across House's face. "Very well," he said patronizingly. "Doctor." He turned and started for the door, Chase glaring after him. But just as he was about to leave, he turned again and said with a smirk, "You may turn out to be a good doctor yet."

"OUT!" screamed Cordelia.

House nodded to her and ushered Foreman and Cameron out ahead of him, leaving Cordelia and Chase alone, both angry at House and at themselves for different reasons.


	5. Chapter Four

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Well, Lauren now has her real Christmas present, so this isn't an interim present anymore so much as an extended on. So yay for presents in April! Hope you all enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone here.

**Chapter Four**

With Chase's help, Cordelia climbed up onto the cold hard table. She kept one hand clasped around the gap in the back of her hospital gown and glowered at the tinted glass as she lay down. "Why are we doing this?" she asked.

"It's an MRI," Chase said.

"I know what it is!"

He put his hands up. "Sorry. We need to get an image of your head to see what's causing your collapses."

With a groan, she cast her eyes to the ceiling. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

Chase smiled sympathetically. "It shouldn't take too long. Just be still, okay?"

He gave her a pat on the shoulder, but got no response. Foreman and Cameron were waiting for him when he entered the console room. "She all set?" Foreman asked.

"Yeah. Start it up."

A hum echoed through the room as the machine lit up and the table slid Cordelia slowly into the tube. Chase idly tapped a pen against his temple as he watched the initial images come through onto the screen. He jumped when his pager went off loudly. "Oh great," he said.

"What's up?" Cameron asked.

"It's House. Apparently important."

He got up and headed for the exit. "Let me know what you find, okay?"

Foreman nodded. "Sure."

Cameron watched him leave, concern written across her face. "Do you think he's okay?"

Foreman shrugged. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"His cousin is lying inside that MRI right now!" Cameron said, gesturing out toward the machine. "We don't know what's wrong with her. And it sounds like they were really close when they were little."

Foreman chuckled dryly. "Cameron, Chase is a big boy. And Cordelia is not in any serious danger."

"We don't know that yet. House has no idea what's wrong with her."

"Well why don't we wait until we know before we start worrying about her or Chase's feelings."

Cameron rolled her eyes, but said nothing further. She did not see Foreman's face darken. "What the?" he muttered.

She turned to see him staring intently at the image on the screen. "What?" She pushed herself away from her console and rolled the chair over next to him. Her face fell. "Oh no."

…

Chase found House playing with his gray and red tennis ball in his office. "What's wrong?" he asked.

House looked up. "Nothing's wrong."

Chase frowned. "Then why did you page me?"

Standing up, House limped into the conjoining conference room. "Is your cousin having her MRI?" he asked.

As he followed him, Chase said, "Yeah."

"Oh good." House poured himself a cup of coffee. "Wouldn't have wanted to page you at the wrong time."

Chase sighed and rubbed his temples. "What are you talking about?"

"The last thing I need is to have you hovering over my patient while she's having her insides photographed."

Angrily, Chase said, "Oh, so she's your patient now?"

"Well she's certainly not yours!" House saw the wrath coming and added, "Chase, you're her cousin. There is no way you can look at this case objectively! I'm sorry, but you can't be her doctor."

Chase was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would quickly lose his job. So instead he shot House a death glare as he stalked out of the office, nearly colliding with Foreman as he went.

Foreman turned to watch him go. "What's up with him?"

House shook his head. "Not important." He nodded to the file Foreman had. "What've you got?"

Foreman sighed. "Bad news."

…

Chase wandered toward Cordelia's room. She had propped herself up against the plastic headboard and was filing her nails with a fiery vengeance. She looked up when Chase knocked on the doorframe. "Hey," she said.

"Hi Cordy. How'd the test go?"

She shrugged and stayed focused on her nails. "Fine."

He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong?"

Cordelia put down the nail file and stared at her cousin. "What was Dr. House talking about? What happened to get you and him in trouble that no one will talk about?"

Chase ran a hand through his blonde hair. "Cordelia, I don't want to talk about it."

"No!" Cordelia snapped. "You and your friends are holding me here against my will when there's nothing wrong with me, so you don't get to hide things from me!"

Chase stood up and began pacing. "Why do you always do this? Why do you always push and push until you get what you want?"

"Why are you letting your cronies keep me captive in this hospital bed?"

"We're worried about you, Cordelia!" Chase yelled. "Normal people do not collapse in blinding agony!"

"Normal people do not keep deep dark secrets from their favorite family members," Cordelia spat back.

"You don't get it, okay?" Chase said. "I screwed up and someone died because of it!" He sat down heavily in a chair next to the bed. "She had two little girls. I killed her."

"You – you made a mistake," Cordelia stammered. "Everyone makes mistakes."

Chase rolled his eyes. "And have you ever killed anyone because of a mistake you made?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes."

It wasn't the answer Chase was expecting. His eyes widened. "What?"

Cordelia nodded. "Part of my old job was providing information to my boss," she explained. "He was a private detective. Once, I gave him the wrong information. Someone innocent was killed."

"I…" Chase started.

Cordelia interrupted. "Just because you made one mistake once doesn't mean you're a bad doctor or a bad man, Robbie. Just suck it up, learn from it, and don't do it again."

Chase chuckled to hide how choked up he was. "It's hard to take you seriously when you're calling me Robbie."

"What, you mean Dr. House doesn't call you Robbie?"

That made him laugh out loud. "No."

Cordelia raised a devious eyebrow. "Would you like him to?"

"No!"

Cordelia laughed. "Fine. I like that I'm the only one who calls you that anyway."

"That's not fair," Chase said.

"What?"

He grinned. "I don't have an embarrassing nickname for you."

She smiled back, but her smile soon faded. "Look, there's something I should tell you."

Chase frowned. "What?"

"In my bag – "

Her words were cut off by a strangled scream as she clutched at her temples and her eyes rolled back in her head. "Cordy?" Chase said. He jumped up and ran to her side. "Cordelia!" he shouted.

She continued to wail in agony and curled into the fetal position as Chase rolled her onto her side and pushed the alarm button on the wall next to her bed. "Cordelia, can you hear me?"

A nurse ran in and stopped short at the door. "Oh God," she said.

Chase looked over his shoulder. "Get in here, I need help!"

She ran to his side, but at that moment, Cordelia fell still under Chase's hands. "Cordelia?" he asked. There was no response. Her vital signs were stable, but she lay limp on her side, her dark hair covering half her face. "Oh no," Chase whispered.

"Dr. Chase?" the nurse asked. "What happened?"

"Another episode," he said. His heart sank as he did a quick exam and looked back up. "She's in a coma."


	6. Chapter Five

**DISCLAIMER **Don't own anyone, as usual.**  
**

**Chapter Five**

The door banged open and House walked in, determined not to look at any of his team. "Out," he said.

Cameron and Foreman shared a look before getting up and fleeing for the door. Chase started to follow them, but House sat heavily in a chair before saying, "You stay."

He turned around and slowly walked back to the table. "What's up?" he asked. "Did you find out what's wrong with Cordelia?" His tone was light, for he had decided when she was first admitted that he would stay positive until there was absolutely no way to avoid the inevitable.

Unfortunately his time had run out.

"Your cousin is dying," House pronounced.

Chase looked down at the tabletop in front of him, unable to look House in the eye. "How do you know?"

"I'm a doctor, Chase, remember?"

It was hard to keep his voice from shaking. "Did you find out what's wrong with her?"

"Degenerative brain damage, caused initially by that episode she had at St. Matthews. Probably a drug overdose. It's been getting worse and worse without her knowing it."

"No!" Chase said emphatically, looking up. "I told you before, Cordy would never do drugs. I know her."

House looked surprised. "Well then would you like to explain to me why this girl's brain is turning to mush, Dr. Chase?"

"It must be something else."

"Look," House said, hobbling around the table to sit beside the younger doctor. "Believe it or not, I do _somewhat_ care that you're unfortunately attached to this dying patient. But when I tell you that she's dying, I'm not saying it for my good health." He sighed. "There's nothing I can do." He got up, took his cane, and headed for the door. "I…I'm sorry."

Chase stood up angrily just as House was at the door. "I don't accept that."

House turned around. "Excuse me?"

"Cordelia would never do drugs. I've known her my entire life. You just aren't looking hard enough."

House sighed and closed the door again. "What do you want me to say?" he asked, turning around. "That I can just blink my eyes and make her better?"

"You deal with this stuff every day!" Chase shouted. "Every single day we bring some kind of weird new case to you that no one else can solve and you figure out what's wrong with them! What is so different about my cousin?"

"The difference is that your cousin is dying! I don't need to figure out what's wrong with her; I already know! She. Is. Going. To. Die! And there's nothing I or you or anyone else in the world can do about it," House finished sadly.

Chase stood up and threw his hands in the air. "I don't accept that. I can't!"

"I don't have anything else to say," House said.

"Why don't you say that you can figure out what's wrong with her?" Chase asked.

House rolled his eyes. "I know what you want to hear. I can't tell you that."

Chase angrily threw the door open. "I'm going to sit with my cousin. Leave me alone." He stalked off down the hall.

…

Chase spent hours by Cordelia's bedside, talking to her and holding her hand as she slept. It was the only time he allowed himself to cry, as Foreman, Cameron, House, and even Cuddy and Wilson left him and his cousin alone.

"Cordy, listen to me," he said on the week anniversary of her coma. "I know you can do this. You're stronger than this! You have to wake up!"

He pressed her hand to his lips and fell asleep leaning against the wall. The clock read 2:00 am when a faint whisper woke him.

"Angel."

"Cordy?" he asked hesitantly. Then louder, "Cordelia, can you hear me?"

But there was no change in her condition. The monitors of her vitals were all stable but unwavering. She was still as deep in the coma as she had been before.

He frowned. "Angel," he repeated. Abruptly, he got up and ran for the telephone at the nurses' station.

…

House was the last to come into the conference room. "I thought only I got to call midnight meetings," he said through a yawn.

"You aren't in charge anymore," Foreman grumbled. "I am. And I didn't call this meeting either!"

"I did," Chase said. "We need to talk."

House gestured at the sleepy people in the room with his cane. "Yeah. We got that."

Chase stood up and started to pace around the room. Cameron, Foreman, and House watched him groggily. Finally, Cameron sighed. "Chase, just tell us what's going on so I can go back to bed!"

"Can someone in a coma whisper?" he blurted out.

He was met with stares. House raised an eyebrow. "Raise your hand if your specialty is intensive care. Oh right! It's you, Chase! Care to answer your own question?"  
Chase glared at him. "I'm serious."

Foreman shook his head. "Chase, you know the answer. People in comas do not whisper. Or talk or sing or laugh."

"Are you sure?"

Cameron yawned and sighed. "Yes, we're sure! You know as well as we do that people in comas are in comas! They don't even make baby noises. No noises at all."

Chase just shook his head. "Is it possible?"

"No!" House cried. "It is not possible for a comatose patient to whisper. Now can we go back to bed?"

Nervously, Chase sat down at the table. "I think Cordelia whispered something."

House threw his head back and groaned. "You have got to be kidding me!" He looked at Chase. "You dragged us all out of bed because you're having nightmares?"

"This wasn't a dream!" Chase insisted. "I was in Cordelia's room and I heard someone whisper the word Angel."

"You're losing it," House said.

Foreman rubbed at his temples. "What were you doing when you heard the whispering?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Chase said, "I was resting my eyes."

"Sleeping," Foreman supplied.

"Look, I didn't imagine this!"

Cameron stood up and sat beside Chase. "I think you need to go home. We can watch over Cordelia for the rest of the night."

House raised an eyebrow. "We?"

She rolled her eyes. "I will watch over her. Go home, Chase."

…

It took nearly half an hour of pushing before Chase agreed to go home. Cameron yawned as she walked into Cordelia's room at four in the morning. Foreman and House were happy to go home and leave her to care for Cordelia until the start of the workday.

Cordelia was lying on her back, her eyes closed and her breathing even. Cameron stood in the doorway for a moment, her heart slowly breaking as she thought of how desperate Chase must be to do something. If only there was some way that she could help Cordelia to get better.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cameron saw Cordelia's handbag on the floor half under the bed. It occurred to her that if Cordelia had been hiding anything that would be causing the episodes, it would have to be something that she kept with her. A sarcastic smirk crossed her lips. She had been working with House too long.

Against all of her better moral judgment, Cameron found herself picking up Cordelia's purse and rifling through its contents. Outside of lip-gloss, car keys, a hotel key card, and the wallet, there was nothing in the small bag. Cameron was about to put it back down when she saw the corner of a white card in a half-closed pocket.

She pulled out the business card and squinted, trying to make sense of the squiggly drawing on the front. Beside it was printed, "Angel Investigations: We Help the Hopeless."


	7. Chapter Six

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Sorry for the wait! Hope you all enjoy! And this is still for Lauren, who has been waiting oh so patiently for me to finish it.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone.

**Chapter Six**

In the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel in Los Angeles, a green-skinned demon with red horns brought a young woman a glass of water. She sat wanly on a round couch. "That better, babycakes?" the demon asked.

"Yeah, thanks." Greatfully, she drank the water, swallowing two pills.

Three other men came out of the back office, about to rush to her side, when the phone rang. "I'll get it." One of them picked up the phone. "Angel Investigations. This is Angel."

"Angel? Oh thank God."

Angel frowned and looked at the others. He motioned Gunn and Wesley to go to Fred's side and glean what information they could from the most recent vision. "Yes, this is Angel. Who is this?"

"My name is Dr. Robert Chase. I'm calling from Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey."

"New Jersey?" Angel repeated. "Okay. Can I help you with something?"

There was deep concern in the voice on the other end of the line. "I'm calling about my cousin."

On the couch, Fred frowned as she looked at Gunn, Wesley, and the demon Lorne gathered around her. "You aren't going to believe this," she said.

"Your cousin?" Angel asked. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

"Your business card was in her bag," Chase said. "She mentioned that she used to work for a private detective and then there was this thing, and – "

Angel cut him off, a bad feeling suddenly coming over him. "What did you say your name was?"

"Robert Chase."

The realization hit Angel like a hammer. "Cordelia," he said. He did not wait for Chase's confirmation. "What's wrong with her?"

"She came to visit me," Chase said. "But while she was here she had an episode of severe neurological pain. Bad enough to cause her to collapse."

"What?" Angel said. "That's impossible."

"I saw it," Chase insisted. "There was no explanation. But now…" His voice trailed off. After a long pause, he said, "She had a second, worse than the first. She's in a coma."

Angel did not reply for a long time. Finally he said, "We'll be out as soon as possible." Then he hung up the phone.

Wesley approached the front desk. "Angel, Fred's vision – something's happened."

He looked at Wesley sadly. "Yeah. It has."

Wesley frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Angel pushed past him and walked to the couch. "I need you all to listen," he said. He waved Gunn off when he saw that he was about to interrupt. "The vision can wait."

Gunn nodded and sat quietly, waiting for Angel to continue. Angel looked at each of his staff in turn, then said quietly, "It's Cordelia."

"We know," Fred said.

Angel frowned. "What?"

"My vision. It was about Cordelia. She had a phantom vision." Fred replied.

Gunn frowned. "I still don't understand this phantom vision thing."

"It's like phantom pain," Wesley said. "When a person loses a limb, often they claim to feel pain in that limb even though it's no longer there. In Cordelia's case, she's experiencing the pain and physical effects of the visions she once had even though the visions themselves are no longer there."

Fred added, "And they've gotten so bad that now she's in a coma."

Angel nodded sadly. "Yeah."

"Who was that on the phone?" Wesley asked.

"A Dr. Robert Chase," Angel replied. "He's attending her at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey."

"What is she doing in New Jersey?" Gunn asked.

Wesley did not give Angel the chance to respond. "Chase?" he asked.

Angel nodded. "Apparently he's also Cordelia's cousin."

The others sat in stunned silence. "Wow," Gunn finally said. "After all these years."

"Yeah," Angel whispered.

"We never knew where she went," Fred said. "I don't mind having the visions, really I don't, but she never said anything. She never told us where she was going."

"I know," Angel said.

Gunn looked confused. "She gave up Los Angeles for New Jersey?"

"We have to go to New Jersey," Angel said. "We have to see her."

Tears shone in Wesley's eyes. "She isn't going to wake up, is she?"

Angel shook his head. "It doesn't sound like it."

Fred started to cry. Lorne put his arm around her and wiped a tear from his own red eye. Gunn sniffed, stood up, and began pacing around the room. "So when do we leave?" he asked.

"As soon as possible. The next flight out," Angel replied.

Wesley and Lorne shared a look. "Angel," Wesley said. "You know you can't fly. There's no way you will be safe on an airplane."

"What about a red-eye flight?"

Gunn shook his head. "Still too risky. If you get barbequed, we're screwed."

"I have to get to New Jersey as soon as possible," Angel insisted.

"It's too dangerous!" Wesley repeated.

"I am not leaving her alone!" Angel shouted. "I'm going to New Jersey!" Then he turned and stalked into the office.

Wesley sighed and dropped his head in his hands. Fred leaned against Lorne's shoulder, still sniffling. "What are we going to do?" she asked. "He can't fly."

"But if he decides to fly," Gunn said, "We can't stop him."

"No," Wesley agreed. "So we just have to find a way to make it safe." Abruptly, he got up and headed into the office.

Angel was sitting at the desk, staring at nothing. "Angel," Wesley said softly. The vampire looked up. "We can find a way to get you to New Jersey," Wesley added. Angel continued to say nothing. Wesley sat down opposite the desk in frustration.

"What about a coffin?"

Wesley looked up, appalled. "A what?"

"A coffin," Angel repeated. "Put me in a coffin and check it."

"That's sick," Wesley replied. "And also requires mounds of paperwork."

Angel stood up and picked up the phone. "Then I would get on that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make."

Wesley looked at Angel, shaking his head, but ultimately got up and left the office. Once the door was shut firmly, Angel dialed a familiar number and listened to the rings.

"Hello?"

"Buffy."

Buffy Summers sounded surprised. "Angel? Is everything okay?"

Angel closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. He sat back at the desk. "No Buffy. It's not."

"What's wrong?"

"It's Cordelia."

"Cordelia?" Buffy asked. "You heard from her? Where is she?"

"We didn't hear from her," Angel said. "We heard from her doctor. She's in New Jersey. In a coma."

There was no response from Buffy, but Angel could hear her gasp in shock. He continued, "I'm leaving as soon as Wesley can arrange to transport a dead body by plane."

"Uh, excuse me?"

If the situation had not been so grim, Angel would have chuckled. "A coffin, Buffy. It's the safest way for me to fly. Anyway, I think she would want you to be there too."

There was another pause. Finally, Buffy said, "Just tell me which airport to fly into."


	8. Chapter Seven

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Only three chapters left! Again, it's to Lauren – I hope she and the rest of you enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER** If you recognize them, I don't own them.

**Chapter Seven**

Buffy Summers waited nervously in the lobby of Newark Airport. She had only seen Angel a handful of times since he had left Sunnydale six years before and only once under such miserable circumstances. She had welcomed his presence on the night of her mother's funeral, but she was dreading seeing him now. Seeing Angel would make the fact that Cordelia was in a coma a reality.

"Buffy!"

She turned at the sound of her name to see Wesley striding quickly through the hall toward her. She ran to him and hugged him tightly, fighting against the tears in her eyes. "It's good to see you, Wesley," she said.

"You too. Did you come alone?"

Buffy nodded. "Giles in England working on Council stuff and Willow and Xander are holding down the fort at home. Dawn's with them." She sniffed and tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. "Xander especially wanted to come, but he just couldn't."

Wesley squeezed her shoulder. Buffy noticed another man and a woman who had come up behind them. "Is this your staff?" she asked.

Wesley turned around. "Oh, yes. Buffy Summers, this is Charles Gunn and Fred Burkle."

Buffy nodded her hello. "Fred," she repeated. The girl nodded. "You're the one who inherited Cordelia's visions, right?" Buffy asked.

Again, Fred nodded. "For four years now. They're not that bad."

Buffy smiled ruefully. "Yeah right. And Charles?"

Gunn grimaced. "Please, call me Gunn."

"Okay then." Buffy looked around. "Where's…?"

Wesley held up a set of keys. "He's waiting to be picked up."

…

Wesley drove their rented car down the airport access road. "Now remember," Wesley said. "We're picking up the body of Buffy and Fred's father. Gunn, you and I are their respective husbands."

Buffy and Fred shared a look and rolled their eyes. Gunn shrugged. "Cool with me. Just point me in the direction of the coffin I gotta grab."

"Let me do all the talking," Wesley added.

Fred flashed a thumbs-up. "Check."

They pulled up in front of a warehouse, lit only by a naked floodlight in the quickly deepening dusk. Wesley and Buffy climbed out of the car and headed for the door.

The knock echoed through the cavernous building. After a moment, a man opened the door and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you two?"

Wesley put his arm around Buffy's shoulders. "Yes. My name is Wesley Winters. This is my wife Buffy. We've come to pick up a coffin."

The man frowned. "I'm sorry for your loss. What was the name of the deceased?"

"Wade Angeles," Buffy said. "He was my father."

He disappeared back into the warehouse and reappeared a moment later with a clipboard. "I need the signature of the next of kin. Mrs. Winters, I assume that would be you?"

Buffy nodded and accepted the pen that she was offered. She signed on the dotted line, playing the appropriately distraught daughter, and then returned to Wesley's embrace. "Can we take him now?" she asked.

"I'll bring it right out," the man answered.

"Thank you very much," Wesley said.

They waited in the twilight until the large loading door creaked open and a forklift began rolling toward them. Buffy shuddered when they saw the plain coffin perched on the lift. Wesley squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry about this," he said softly.

Buffy looked up at him. "About the coffin or this fun masquerade?" she whispered back.

He shrugged. "Both."

Gunn joined Wesley at the forklift and the two men and Buffy lifted the coffin between them. They popped open the back of the SUV they had rented and carefully slid the wooden container inside. Once they were back on the road, Wesley called back, "We need to get out of the city, Angel. Then we'll pull over somewhere and let you out."

A dull thud was their answer. An hour later, along a wooded and deserted stretch of road, they pulled the car over and opened the back. Wesley gestured to Buffy. She smirked and grabbed the edge of the coffin lid, ripping it off with one hand.

Angel sat up and dusted off his shoulders. "Thanks," he said, accepting Buffy's hand and climbing out of the box. Once he was standing beside them on the road, Wesley and Gunn lifted the coffin out of the car and heaved it into the woods. They brushed off their hands and returned to the roadside. "Well," Angel said. "Let's go to the hospital."

…

The lobby of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was nearly empty, save a nurse sitting at the reception desk. Buffy and Angel shared a look and headed slowly toward her. She looked up and saw the five people approaching. "Can I help you?" she asked when they reached the desk.

"Yes," Angel said. "We're looking for Dr. Robert Chase."

She flipped through a chart on the desktop. "Dr. Chase is a member of our diagnostics team," she said. "Headed by Dr. House. His office is up on the second floor." She glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow. "Someone might still be up there."

"Thank you," Buffy said. "Where's the elevator?"

The nurse pointed to the right. "Just down that way."

Buffy pushed the button and the group stood in tense silence by the elevator doors. No one spoke until they left the elevator and found themselves looking through the glass walls of a conference room at a blonde doctor sitting at the table. Angel was the first to push open the door. "Dr. Chase?" he asked.

The doctor looked up. "Yes. Are you Angel?"

Angel nodded. Chase stood and shook hands with the vampire. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course." Angel gestured behind him. "This is Buffy, Wesley, Fred, and Gunn. Cordelia worked with all of us."

Chase shook hands with each in turn. "It's nice to see that Cordy had such devoted friends. I, uh, hadn't spoken to her in several years before recently."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Exactly how much do you know about Cordelia's life?"

Chase looked uncomfortable, but was spared having to answer by the arrival of Dr. Cameron, Dr. Foreman, and Dr. House. House looked at the assembly and said gravely, "I'm glad you're all here."

Chase frowned. "These are friends of Cordy's from California. Has there been a change in her condition?"

Sadly, House shook his head. "If you'd like to see her, I think we should go now. Then there are some things that we need to discuss."

Chase frowned, but Angel and the others followed House without question. Buffy and Fred both stifled sobs when they were led into Cordelia's room. "Oh God," Fred whispered.

Angel bent down by Cordelia's side and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I'm so sorry, Cordy. I'm sorry that you got dragged into all of this."

"What's causing the coma?" Wesley asked quietly.

Foreman and House shared a look. "Your friend was in the hospital once before," Foreman said. "Five years ago."

"Yes," Angel said. "She was admitted to the neuropsychiatric ward at St. Matthews." Wesley cleared his throat suddenly and Angel glanced at him. "It was an unexplained psychotic break."

House scoffed. Chase glared at him, but said nothing as Foreman continued. "Whatever happened to her then has caused her brain to slowly deteriorate over the last five years. It had degenerated to the point of no return."

Gunn and Wesley brushed at tears in their eyes. Angel once again turned to Cordelia, lying on the bed. "I'm so sorry," he repeated.

House waited a moment, then said, "Cordelia is not going to wake up."

Buffy gave him a sharp glare. "Not one for the tact, are you?" she snapped.

He did not reply to her. Instead, he focused on Chase and Angel. "We need to track down her next of kin."

"Uncle Callum," Chase said. "Cordelia's father. Why do we need him?"

House turned his gaze to the floor as he said, "Because the question has to be raised about turning off her life support."

Fred broke down. Buffy wrapped an arm around her protectively and kept her angry stare on House. "You're a monster," she spat.

"Buffy," Wesley said warningly.

Buffy rounded on Wesley. "No! I will not stand here and listen to this moron talk about killing Cordelia! I mean, she and I were never the best of friends, but we went through hell together! She was there on Graduation Day!" She looked at Angel and Wesley. "She fought with us! And then when she inherited Doyle's gift and helped you, Angel – how can you all just sit here and listen to him talk about letting her die?"

Angel stood up and spoke quietly to Chase. "I think we need some time to process all of this."

Chase nodded. "Of course." He turned to House and said, "We're leaving."

For once, House did not argue. Cameron and Foreman were the first to leave, then House and Chase. Chase cast one last look at his cousin and left her alone with her friends.


	9. Chapter Eight

**DISCLAIMER** I don't own anyone in this story. Other people do.

Author's note at the end.

**Chapter Eight**

Buffy stood staring at the door at the end of the corridor bearing the cross. They had come to a stalemate about Cordelia. None of them wanted to turn off the life support, because none of them were ready to say goodbye, but there was no denying Dr. Foreman's prognosis. She was not going to wake up.

She had tried to call Giles in England, but he was unavailable, negotiating with an ancient tribe of warriors in Egypt. Without his guidance, Buffy was utterly lost. Angel and the others were too upset to offer any good advice and she still did not feel comfortable around Cordelia's cousin and the other doctors. They were just too clueless about the way Cordelia had lived and was ultimately dying.

She had never turned to religion before in her life, not even when her mother had died. But her mother's death was quick. Kendra's death was quick. Jenny Calendar's death was quick. In all the years she had spent surrounded by danger and death, she had never had to see someone die as slowly and agonizingly as Cordelia was now. She was lost.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the chapel door and sat down inside the softly lit room. At first she did not know what to do, so she sat there. She closed her eyes and leaned her head in her hands. The silence started out stifling, but soon she found herself being relaxed by it. There was something comforting about sitting there, even if she did not know what to say.

The opening of the door caught her attention. She opened her eyes and turned to see Angel standing in the doorway. He smiled sadly at her. She got up to join him in the hallway. "Hi," she said.

"Hi." He nodded toward the doorway. "I can't go in there."

"I know."

He ran his hand through his hair and leaned against the wall. "I just wish there was something I could do," he finally said.

Buffy laid a hand on his arm. "So do I."

They were quiet for a minute. Then Buffy said, "What about the Powers? Is there any way you can ask them to intervene?"

Angel shook his head. "I haven't been able to go through any of their emissaries since the Oracles."

"What about Fred?" Buffy asked. "Can she?"

The vampire was quiet for a moment. "I guess it can't hurt to ask her."

…

Chase, Cameron, and Foreman sat silently in the conference room. The only noise was the rhythmic bouncing of House's oversized tennis ball in the office next door.

Finally, Chase had had enough. "Will you please stop?" he demanded as he burst into House's office.

House looked up at him, but did not stop bouncing the gray and red ball against the wall. He looked thoughtful. "What aren't they telling us?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Your cousin's little playmates," House said. "What aren't they telling us?"

Chase gave him a look as he took a seat. "What makes you think that they're not telling us everything? They want Cordy to get well as much as I do."

Foreman and Cameron hesitantly listened from the doorway. House continued to bounce the ball and looked intently at the floor. "Everybody lies," he muttered to himself.

Chase rolled his eyes. "Right."

"I think House has a point," Foreman said quietly.

That got House to hold the ball steady in his hand. "You're agreeing with me?" he asked. "You're actually willing to admit that I might possibly be right, oh Great and Wise One?"

Foreman glared at him, then turned to Chase. "Some of the things they were saying earlier didn't make sense. They fought together? She inherited a gift? Unless they're all members of a gang, which I seriously doubt," he added quickly when he saw Chase's angry look, "then there's something strange going on."

"She did work for a detective agency," Cameron offered. "I'm sure that the fighting could have been part of that."

"Detectives don't fight," Foreman said.

Reluctantly, Cameron agreed. She, Foreman, and House all looked at Chase. "I'm sorry, Chase," Cameron said. "But I really think that there is something else going on."

House got up and went for the door. "Time to go find out. Maybe Cordelia will share this gift of hers with the rest of us."

Foreman and Cameron followed. Alone, Chase sat in the office, not wanting to believe that his beloved cousin could possibly be keeping anything from him. But after a moment, unable to stay, he pulled open the door and followed them.

…

Fred sat beside Cordelia's bed, holding her hand. She brushed tears out of her eyes. "Cordelia, I know we didn't get a chance to get to know each other that well, you running away as soon as I got out of Pylea and all," she said. "But I'd really like it if you woke up again.

"I don't mind getting your visions. They don't hurt as much as you said they do and I really feel like I'm helping people." She stopped talking as her voice choked up and the tears took over. But her crying subsided as a vision hit her.

It was unlike any vision she had ever seen before. There was no pain, only two faces smiling at her. Cordelia was one. The other was a man with dark hair and green eyes who she had never met before.

Cordelia smiled at her. "Don't worry Fred. I promise. I'm okay."

The man nodded. "I'll take care of her," he said, his voice lilting with an Irish accent.

"Tell Angel that both Doyle and I are okay," Cordelia said. "Please."

Fred thought she nodded. When she tried to speak, Cordelia shook her head. "Don't. Just tell Angel and the others. Doyle and Dennis will take care of me." She looked happy and sad all at once. "And tell Buffy that it means a lot that she came all this way to say goodbye."

Fred nodded again. The faces began to fade away. But suddenly they came back into focus. "Fred, tell Angel that I want to be buried back home," Cordelia said. "Back in LA."

Then they were gone. Fred blinked and saw Buffy, Angel, Wesley, and Gunn standing in the doorway, staring at her.

"Are you okay?" Angel asked.

Fred merely nodded. "She's okay too."

"What are you talking about?" Wesley asked.

"I had a vision," Fred said.

The others rushed to her side. "Are you okay?" Angel asked. "What's the trouble?"

Fred surprised them by giving them a sad smile. "There is no trouble. It was Cordy. She's okay, Angel. She told me so. She said that Dennis and Doyle would watch out for her."

Tears gathered in Angel's eyes. "Doyle's watching out for her," he repeated.

Fred nodded. Buffy stepped closer to Angel's side. But their moment was shattered by the blaring of alarms. The group turned to Cordelia's heart monitor, where lights were flashing wildly. Buffy ran to the door. "Help! Dr. Chase! Someone, get in here!"

Chase came running to the door. His face dropped when he saw the monitor. "Code blue!" he cried and pushed a button on the wall.

House, Foreman, and Cameron ran to the door. "Oh no," Cameron said, her voice choked.

Chase was running around the room like a madman, checking tubes and IV needles and each of the monitors. Cameron started crying. House and Foreman shared a look. House limped over to catch Chase by the arm. "It's over, Chase. Let her go."

"No!" He broke away from House and went for the defibrillator. "I won't let her die."

But before he even reached the box, an invisible push sent him reeling back. Only Foreman stopped him from crashing into the metal tray behind him. "What the hell was that?" Chase asked angrily.

Angel had a faraway look in his eye. "It's Dennis."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Chase demanded.

"Phantom Dennis," Wesley replied with a sad smile.

Cameron slowly switched off Cordelia's cardiac monitor and the shrieking alarm of the flatline fell into silence. "I'm sorry, Chase," she said.

Buffy shook her head. "Don't be." She looked directly at Chase. "She's happy now."

Fred nodded. "I know she is." She took a deep breath. "Dr. Chase, Cordelia asked me if she could be buried in Los Angeles. Would it be okay if we took her body back with us?"

"She asked you?" he said, his voice breaking with tears. "When?"

Fred looked to Angel, her eyes saying plainly, _Just now_. Angel nodded. "Back before she left. She always said that if anything should happen to her, that she'd like to be buried back home."

Chase was hardly able to hold back a sob as he approached his cousin's bedside. Again, he was tossed back and caught by Foreman, but Angel spoke aloud to no one, "Dennis, that's enough. Let him say goodbye." He nodded to the blonde doctor. "It's fine. He won't stop you."

Foreman and House looked at each other in disbelief, but indeed this time Chase was able to walk, trembling, to Cordelia's bedside. House, Foreman, and Cameron, as well as Buffy, Gunn, and Fred, quietly left the room. Chase was left with Angel and Wesley as they gathered around Cordelia lying lifeless in the hospital bed.

"I'm so sorry, Cordy," Chase whispered tearfully as he knelt beside the bed and clasped her limp hand. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you."

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into the face of Cordelia's friend Wesley. "Dr. Chase, I promise. She's at peace now."

The energy in the room shifted, though only Angel was able to sense it. He looked sadly at Chase, then to Wesley. "Dennis is gone."

"He must have decided that he wasn't needed here anymore," Wesley said. "He followed her."

Chase looked between Angel and Wesley. "Who is Dennis?"

Wesley and Angel shared a look, but Angel replied, "Cordelia's guardian angel."

If Chase was skeptical, he didn't show or say it. Instead, he accepted Wesley's hand and climbed to his feet. "I always knew that she was special," he finally said. "I should have known that someone would be looking out for her."

There were tears in Wesley's eyes. "She had many people looking out for her," he told Chase.

With one final nod, Chase looked at his watch and said solemnly, "Time of death, 10:31 pm." The three of them left the room then so that they did not have to watch a sheet pulled over Cordelia's peaceful face.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I know a lot of you didn't want Cordelia to die (including Lauren, who this story was written for...sorry!!), but it was the direction the story took me. And I also didn't think that Angel and the others would reveal all the details about Cordy's (and their) life, so that didn't really get touched either. Lastly, I know Buffy's a little OOC with the whole Chapel thing, but I figured after her time in Heaven, she might have grown a little more religious.

There will be an epilogue, coming soon! Thanks for sticking with this story to the end!


	10. Epilogue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** And…that's it! Thanks everyone for reading and I hope you enjoyed! (Lauren, Merry Christmas that lasted till August!)

Oh, and I may have borrowed something from _The Mummy_ for this chapter. I couldn't resist!

**DISCLAIMER** Nope, still don't own anyone.

**Epilogue**

They gathered just after dusk around a grave in one of Los Angeles's more modest cemeteries. There was no one else around, only the handful of people who came to pay their last respects to 24-year-old Cordelia Chase.

Angel, Wesley, Gunn, and Fred stood with Chase closest to the grave. Off in the shadows, where only Angel knew where to look, was Lorne, whose demon appearance made it impossible for him to join the rest of the group. Buffy had found Xander and brought him to the funeral, but Willow was not able to return to California in time. Neither was Giles.

House, Foreman, and Cameron had been given a weekend's leave to join Chase at his cousin's funeral. Although none of them had been to Los Angeles before, they chose to spend the few days they had there getting to know the people who Cordelia had once spent her life with.

Angel gave them each rooms at the Hyperion for the few nights they were visiting. They spent the day of the funeral in the hotel lobby where Angel was safe from the sun yet would not raise suspicion. Buffy and Xander told the others stories from their years at Sunnydale High, sanitized for the sake of Chase and the other doctors. Angel told them what he could about when she had worked for Angel Investigations. Chase told often-unheard stories of his childhood in Australia – a time when Cordelia, although six years younger, had been his most loved playmate.

It all led to this evening as they gathered around the dark brown casket held up on a platform over a gaping hole in the ground. No one could bear to look at the granite headstone that read "Cordelia Chase 1981 – 2005."

No priest or minister presided over the ceremony. Buffy and Angel had hoped that Giles could have returned and overseen the service, but he was still deep in the Egyptian desert meeting with the Medjai. So Wesley, being the other Watcher and having worked with Cordy both in Sunnydale and in Los Angeles, stepped up.

He stood awkwardly next to the gravestone. "I, uh, don't know what to say," he admitted. "How do you say goodbye to the best woman you have ever known?"

"She was a fighter," Angel said.

"And a great ally," Buffy added.

"A perfect woman," Xander said, tears in his eyes.

Chase could barely speak. "And a best friend."

"She always wanted to live in LA," Buffy said. "I remember her telling me that my very first day at Sunnydale High." Her eyes were sad. "If only we knew."

Angel nodded. "If only," he echoed.

They stood in silence. Finally, Wesley nodded to the undertaker waiting nearby. As the man neared the grave, everyone gazed for one last moment at the casket before murmuring their last goodbyes. At last only Chase was left standing by the coffin. He did not bother to dry the tears. Instead, he knelt down and ran his hand over the top of the dark burnished wood. "Goodbye Cordy," he said. "I love you."

Hidden in the shadows, Angel went to where Lorne watched. "I'm sorry you couldn't be with us," he said.

The demon did not respond. Rather he seemed to be listening intently. Finally he said, "She's singing." He looked to Angel. "Tell her cousin that she loves him. And that she'll watch over him."

Angel nodded. "I will." He walked over to Chase, still beside the grave. The two men were silent at first. Then Angel said, "She loves you too. She'll always be with you. I promise."

Chase nodded, strangely comforted by his words. "I always watched out for her when we were kids," he said. "I guess she wanted a turn."

"I guess she did." They stood there for one moment longer, then Angel turned away. "Come on, Chase. It's time to go."

Reluctantly, Chase turned and followed Angel to where House, Buffy, and the others waited. Finally, as the first stars struggled to get through the murky light reflecting up from the city, they left the cemetery.


End file.
